A Time Before Nightfall
by YellowTrumpets
Summary: Prequel to KH set in the Bastion. Chapter 4 up: Enter Hojo, and Rufus makes a plan. VinCrecia fluff, CidSher angst, Clorith, Squinoa, one-sided Cloti and...Turks. Rated for language.
1. Wet Pants and Market Day

Disclaimer: Don't own nothin' but the plot…characters, places belong to Squaresoft, Disney, and Buena Vista…

Once upon a time, there was a kingdom, ruled by a just and fair king. This king's name…was Ansem. The people lived happily, business was prospering, and the future looked bright. Until one day, when their sun was obscured by darkness and the hope of that kingdom died. Until the day when the shadows finally consumed the light.

Chapter One: Wet Pants and Market Day

"Cloud! Cloud Cloud Cloud Cloud CLOUD!" screeched a tiny girl with shiny black pigtails and a scowl on her face. Six-year-old Yuffie Kisaragi ran through the halls of the Bastion, searching for a certain someone.

That certain someone was currently involved in conversation with _another_ certain someone, a certain Aerith Gainsborough, as a matter of fact. Cloud Strife groaned in irritation as he heard Yuffie's voice calling him. He'd been working up the nerve all day to just go up and talk to Aerith alone, and _of course_ Yuffie would pick this moment to interrupt.

"Cloud Cloud CLOUD!" hollered Yuffie as she ran into the room and flung herself at Cloud's knees.

"Yuffie…" Cloud muttered, "What is it now?" His face flushed, and the fifteen-year-old desperately hoped he didn't look like a fool in front of Aerith. At this point Yuffie was sobbing into his legs. Cloud noticed that his pant legs were becoming quite wet at this point, and the thought of having to face his peers and his commanding officers with gigantic wet blotches on his pants didn't exactly thrill him.

"Cloud," bawled Yuffie, "Squall…he ha-ha-hates m-m-m-mee!"

Aha. So that was it. Yuffie was most likely following (stalking, really) Cloud's best friend and his girlfriend, Rinoa. Obviously Squall had yelled at her to bug off. For all that Yuffie worshipped Squall, Cloud mused, he didn't seem to have much use for her.

Awkwardly, Cloud patted the kid on her head and wished she'd find someone else's pants to cry on. "There, there…I'm sure, uh, I'm sure he didn't mean it."

Yuffie looked up at him, face all blotchy and messy-looking in a way that is only ever achieved when one has been crying, and said, "You think so?"

"Yeah," Cloud said, hoping this would make her go away and let him be alone with Aerith, who was watching the two of them now with an expression on her face that Cloud couldn't figure out.

His answer seemed to satisfy Yuffie, and she skipped out of the room, but not before she turned to them, winked and said, "Enjoy your DATE!"

She giggled and sprinted down the hall, as Cloud turned tomato-red and Aerith giggled. The boy looked down at his pants and muttered, "I can see why Squall chased her away now."

Later that day, Shera Leonhart made her way through the bustling streets of Bastion Town, clutching a basket in her hand. It was market day for the Leonhart family, and, as usual, Shera was handling that chore. She glanced over the list in her free hand one more time before entering the crowded market square. From behind her, Shera suddenly heard a low whistle.

"Hey hey there, pretty bird!"

Shera turned around, mock-frown on her face, to face a scrawny redheaded kid who was leering up at her.

"Reno Chauncer," she scolded, "Does your mother know you're out here?"

The boy grinned. "Maybe she do, maybe she don't. What's it to ya, toots?"

Shera bit her lip to keep from laughing. "Well I'm not sure my father would approve of a man making those kinds of remarks to me, _Mr._ Chauncer."

Reno was about to reply when he someone tapped him on the shoulder. Squall Leonhart looked at him suspiciously.

"You just stay away from my sister, Chauncer," Squall growled. "She doesn't need that kind of attention."

Reno gulped and slunk off. Shera hit her brother on the arm. "Squall…"

"What? I thought it was funny."

"It's not nice to bully ten-year-olds. Even if is Reno."

"You _so_ thought it was funny too."

"No, I most certainly did not! Anyway, so long as you're here, could you run down to the butchers and see if they have that roast we ordered yet?"

"Fine. I take it you're going to go and see Cid today?"

Shera took a bottle out of her basket. "I made him that tea he likes so much. I figured I'd go and deliver it."

Squall smirked. "You spoil that guy."

"Maybe I do," Shera mused. "But he's all alone, so if I don't, who will?"

Squall gave his sister a long, hard look. Her logic was faulty, at best, but if she wanted to spend hour upon hour waiting on that gruff engineer, who was he to say she couldn't? He responded to her rhetorical question the best way he knew how, teenage boy that he was.

"Whatever."

The butcher's was calling…

Shera turned the corner to enter the bakery when she collided with a balloon.

All right, so maybe balloon isn't exactly the most polite word…but pretty damn close.

"Oh!" she exclaimed. "Excuse me, Lu!"

Lucrecia Valentine smiled gently. "S'all right, no harm done." She patted her bulging stomach. "Seems to me that I should be the one apologizing. This baby's turning into a real traffic hazard!"

Shera grinned at her friend. She and Lucrecia had been close since they were children. Lu was two years older than Shera at nineteen, and she had been married to Vincent, Count of Valentine and the King's cousin, for almost a year.

"So why, pray tell, is the Countess Valentine running her own errands?" Shera asked, grin still on her face. "Surely that husband of yours has people to do that for you."

"Well, you know," Lu responded, putting on a false air and waving her hand about rather grandly, "One does like to keep in touch with the common folk from time to time."

They both laughed at that statement. "No, really," Lu answered, "I could send one of Vin's people out to do that, but the bread never tastes right unless I pick the loaf myself."

"So basically you're telling me that you're out walking the streets of Bastion Town with the future Count Valentine in your belly because you're too picky to just let the servants buy you bread?"

"Well, yes, I suppose you could see it like that."

They both laughed again. Shera picked up a loaf of bread, paid the baker, and took Lucrecia's arm. The two walked out into the street, still chatting.

"So tell me," Shera said as they strolled past people going about their daily business, " 'Baby Vin' is, what…fifth in line to the throne?"

"You know he hates it when you call him 'Vin'," Lu admonished, referring to her husband. "And the baby's going to be third in line, after the Prince and Vincent. Provided the Prince doesn't have any children."

Prince Rufus was Ansem's nephew. Technically, Ansem was only Prince Regent, holding the throne until fourteen-year-old Rufus came of age, however, Rufus's father has only been king for three years before his unfortunate demise, so most people considered Ansem more of a king than his brother had ever been.

"Considered it provided for. Can you imagine anyone wanting to marry his Royal Pain-in-the-Highness?"

Lu gave her best friend a reproving glance. "Now, now," she scolded, "He just needs some time to mature. He's really a good person."

"I'm sure he is," Shera said soothingly. They turned a corner. "Lu, you think you could make it back to the palace yourself? I've got some deliveries to make."

"The engineer again? Shera dearest, you really could spend your time in a more productive manner."

"Your husband seems to think highly enough of him," Shera said, a bit on the defensive side.

"Vincent keeps strange company."

Shera sighed. There was no reasoning with Lu when she was like this. As much as she adored her best friend, she had to admit that Lucrecia could be a bit of a snob sometimes.

"Well, I suppose I'll catch up with you later. Take care of yourself, Lu," Shera said, entering the small building that served as a workshop and home for the Bastion's sole engineering expert.

"I will," Lucrecia said, turning towards the opulent palace in the center of the city.

A/N: Well? So far so good? Don't worry, there'll be more action, love, darkness, Heartless, yadda yadda yadda, as we progress. First few chapters are mainly to introduce characters and settings that are different from their FF counterparts. And yes, KH stuff will feature more prominently in later chapters. But for now, PLEASE review. It makes me so very very happy. This is my first full-length fic EVER ("Years" was my first fic), and I am eager for responses…-Rose


	2. The Plot Thickens

Here's the Second Chapter…and we're getting rolling and figuring out some form of a plot here…

…

The Plot Thickens…

…

The Bastion was going through the beginning of something that other countries would later call an "Industrial Revolution". For centuries, the ruling class had kept power over the millions because they had power in the form of sorcery. It was a well-accepted fact that magic made things happen, that to get anything done, you needed magic, or you needed someone who had magic.

All of that began to change about fifty years previous to the reign of the Prince Regent Ansem. People began to explore machinery, making things happen without the use of magic. Philosophers hoped that these new innovations would begin to give power to the lower class, and the optimistic even dared to believe that democracy could come into being, if the social caste system were eradicated. People began to believe that they could have power. It was an uneasy air in the city, one that smelled of revolution.

Cid Highwind cared nothing for any of that. Cid Highwind built things. It was what he did. He had been thinking up little machines and inventions since he was a child, and when he came of age, he signed up for the Guard, like every young man from his part of town. It paid steadily, and provided three meals a day, which was a step up from the slums of Lower Bastion. However, Ansem himself had noticed the blond youth's quick mind and skill with weapons and machinery, and had assigned him to the newly formed Royal Engineering Department. Within three years, Cid was head of the department, and, at age 18, was given his own workshop and quarters away from the place barracks, an honor reserved for officers. Cid was not the youngest Captain in the history of the Bastion, but he had moved abnormally quickly through the ranks.

And promptly stopped. He was content being a Captain, and was making no attempt to level up again. It had been seven years, and Cid spent more time in his workshop than at the palace. Rarely did he ever see anybody anymore, except-

"Good morning, Captain!"

Cid poked his head out from under the machine he was working on to see a young woman in a blue dress, holding a basket. Of course.

"Miss Leonhart," he said, "Yer late."

The girl blushed under her delicate spectacles. "So sorry, Captain. I ran into Lucrecia at the bakery and we chatted a bit. But I brought you some lunch. A- and that tea you like."

She held up a bottle filled with tea. Cid smiled. For all that that girl couldn't walk without tripping over her own feet, she could be pretty thoughtful when she wanted to be.

"Well," he drawled, "Why don't we have ourselves a little picnic and ya can tell me all about how Lu and the baby are."

Shera grinned, and settled herself on the floor, smoothing out her skirts. She pulled out a sheet and, spreading it over the floor, put the tea bottle, several cups, and some sandwiches on it. Cid wiped his hands on a rag and sat down next to her, raising an eyebrow. Shera blushed again.

"Something wrong, Captain?"

"Nothin' really, Miss Leonhart, just wonderin' why you're always comin' down here…"

Shera looked at her lap. "I've been visiting you every day for two years, Captain. You mean you still can't call me by my first name?"

Cid just looked at her. She had to be the dumbest smart person he had ever met. No, she wasn't dumb, he corrected himself, just naïve. She still didn't realize that Baron Leonhart would have a fit if he knew his precious daughter was even on speaking terms with some streetrat from Lower Bastion, Captain or no. Cid still allowed her to come every day and bring him lunch, but that was a tradition she started, and he knew better than to try to convince her to stop, but there was no way he was going to put his neck on the line by trying to have any sort of relationship with a noble's daughter.

Shera was still concentrating on the pattern of her skirt, afraid she'd said something wrong, so Cid changed the subject. "So, eh, how'er Lu and the baby?"

Shera immediately brightened. "Oh, the baby's good, but Lu's getting absolutely _huge,_ I mean, she's _enormous!_"

Cid smirked. "Well, that's pregnancy for ya, ain't it?" he asked gruffly. Shera giggled a bit. "I suppose it is."

Cid took a bite of his sandwich, washing it down with a sip of tea. "Mmmm…I swear you might make the best tea in this whole damn city…So, anyway, why was Lu in the bakery? Doesn't Vinny have people for that?"

Shera smiled at the compliment. "Yes, he does, but you know how Lucrecia is. She's very picky about bread."

Cid snorted. "Ain't all she's picky about." It constantly amazed him that his old Guard buddy, Count Vincent, had married such a high-maintenance woman.

The next half-hour was spend in silence, which is usually what happens when you put two typically untalkative people in a room alone. Or, at least, it's what happens when you put those two untalkative people in a room alone.

Shera packed up her basket after they had finished their lunch. She left the tea out, because she knew how much he loved tea, and looked at the machine Cid had been working on.

"What is it, Captain?"

"What? Oh, that," Cid said, reclining on the floor so that he was looking up at the ceiling, hands behind his head. "It's a gummi ship. 'Cept I haven't put the gummi on there yet."

"A _what _ship?"

"Gummi, Sher- Miss Leonhart, gummi," Cid said, almost slipping in his impatience. "It's the stuff that came out of that meteor shower we had last month. It's damn strong, stronger than any metal we have, and it's lightweight. Easy to build with too. Now, I figure I can build a ship out of it. A f-ing _space_ ship."

He went on, describing the specifications he would need and the way he would put the ship together to maximize engine efficiency. Shera just watched him. She loved it when he got into one of his ideas. He was so intense and focused, and she felt lucky to be in the presence of genius. He had taken out a cigarette and was waving it around to emphasize his words.

"And there'll be these solar panels on the top to help out with the energy, and- are you all right?"

Shera suddenly realized that she was sitting there, staring at him with an enormously dopey expression on her face. She stood up so suddenly she almost fell over. "I, I have some errands to run," she stuttered, dipping a curtsey. "Go- good day, Captain."

With that she turned on her heel and strode from the workshop, clutching her basket in one hand. Cid got up off the floor, holding the bottle of tea. He scratched the side of his head.

_What the hell? Can never understand a thing that girl does._

He took a swig from the bottle.

_But she does make damn good tea._

…

"Have a nice day," said fourteen-year-old Tifa Lockhart to the loving couple as they paid for their meals and exited, the woman holding their redheaded toddler over one shoulder. The tiny girl waved to Tifa with one chubby hand. She waved back, as the next patrons entered her mother's café. Her heart stopped. Her best friend and longtime crush, Cloud Strife, walked in with that flower girl on his arm. He was obviously trying very hard to impress her, by taking her out, like they were a couple or something. Tifa felt vaguely sick.

Then, to add insult to injury, Cloud caught her eye and waved at her. "Yo, Teef!" Aerith giggled, like Cloud was some kind of conversational genius, and offered a tiny, ladylike wave.

Tifa waved nonchalantly at them, and, face red, turned to her friend Quistis. "Quis, take these two."

"Wait," Quistis called as Tifa walked to the back of the café. "Where are you going?"

"To be sick."

…

Tifa was angrily stomping her way home through the dust and mud when she tripped on a stone, falling flat on her face.

"Well, well," boomed a big voice, "Lookee what we have here."

A large dark hand helped Tifa off the ground. Barrett Wallace grinned down at her, folding his arms across his barrel chest. He frowned when he saw her expression.

"Why so upset, lil' pal?" he asked. Tifa sighed, sitting back down on the ground. Barrett plopped down next to her. He was a friend of her parents, almost a favorite uncle to most of the young people of the town.

"It's Cloud."

Barrett snorted. "Ahhh, youn' love. Glad I ain't young no more. So, what he'd do dis time?"

"Oh, nothing. I mean, it's not really his fault. So what if he likes Aerith, I mean, who wouldn't?"

Barrett grumbled. Kids these days…he put a massive hand on Tifa's shoulder, patting it.

"C'mon, kid, I'll walk ya home. Everything'll work itself out."

…

That night…

"His Royal Highness, Crown Prince Rufus! His Royal Highness, the Prince Regent Ansem!"

The man in fancy livery finished his pronouncement, and the prince and price regent sat down to face their subjects, Rufus in a large golden throne and Ansem in a smaller chair made of obsidian. The king's austere white throne remained empty.

"My people," Ansem announced, waving his arms to encompass the small crowd of courtiers who had gathered for a rather exclusive soiree to celebrate the anniversary of some obscure law being written. Basically, it was an excuse for the lords and ladies of the royal court to throw a party and dress to the nines.

Yuffie squirmed uncomfortably, tugging at the high-collared dress she had been forced into earlier that evening. It wasn't easy being a six-year-old courtier. She stomped her foot on the floor, liking the sound her patent-leather shoe made on the marble. She stomped her other foot. A hand tapped on her shoulder.

"Now, now, Lady Yuffie," murmured her bodyguard, a tall man named Tseng, "It would not be good to show disrespect to Lord Ansem, would it?"

Yuffie pouted, and looked over to where Squall was standing with his family and _girlfriend_, Rinoa. Ansem was still talking.

"And now, my good friends, enjoy this feast, for tonight, we make merry!"

Yuffie stuck her tongue out at Rinoa. She didn't particularly like the girl. She wore too much perfume and giggled too much. Squall saw it, and shot Yuffie a glare. His sister, however, smiled at Yuffie. Shera was no fonder of these sorts of get-together than Yuffie herself. Yuffie figured she would rather be with the angry man who built stuff.

The nobles began to mix, schmoozing with each other like very rich and very powerful people do, talking about nothing, of course. Shera could be seen deep in conversation with the Count of Valentine and his wife, who had a baby in her tummy, Yuffie had been told. Yuffie thought that all the women looked very pretty, even Rinoa, although her dress was a little bit too purple and frilly. Shera looked nice in yellow, with a big flower in her curls, behind one ear. Yuffie had seen many of the young rich boys mooning over her friend (Shera was one of the only older girls who seemed to like Yuffie's antics), but she didn't seem to notice.

What she did notice was the grumpy man, striding purposely into the throne room, looking very out of place in his work clothes. He saw Shera, and his eyes traveled awkwardly up her figure before he broke his gaze and gruffly approached the dais. The nobles were shocked. This commoner was just walking up to Ansem, no bow or anything. He whispered something in the Regent's ear, and Ansem thanked him. Cid nodded and marched back through the room, nodding to Vincent, his friend despite their differences. He looked at Shera one last time, as if he almost didn't recognize her with her hair loose and wanted to commit the image to memory. Her cheeks were flushed, and she was shaking a little bit. Then Cid exited the double doors.

Ansem stood. "My friends, I have pressing business to attend to. I pray you, do not let my absence keep you from your enjoyment. Do, continue."

He strode majestically out the doors. The courtiers began to chatter about what they thought was happening. Some of them were just surprised at the appearance of the Engineering Captain. Rinoa turned up her dainty nose.

"Can you believe that? He could have at least changed his shirt, don't you think, Shera?"

Shera made no response. Rinoa waved her hand in front of Shera's face. "Hello? Are you listening to me?"

Shera started. "Hmm?"

"That engineer, just striding in here and interrupting the party. Just think of it!"

Shera smiled a little bit, thinking of the way he looked at her. "Yes, just think of it…"

…

Cid led Ansem through the Waterways, torch in one hand and spear in the other.

"Careful, sir, I found this when I was picking up gummi in the lower level. It's – it's not pretty."

They turned a corner and Cid had to look away. Lying there was a body. A woman's body, half-covered by water. Her face was sickly and pale, her eyes open and pitch black. Ansem studied the scene with an odd, closed expression.

"I fetched you, sir, because I couldn't see how she died. No blood, no bruises even. Sir…it looks like she died of fright."

…

A/N: Oooo look, cliffhanger. Review! I did stick some Kairi in there- did you catch her? Just to let you know, this is going to be a Cid/Shera and Cloud/Aerith. Because there are like, three other Cid/Sheras in this section…not unusual considering she wasn't in KH, but yeah. Review Review. And if there are some FF7 characters you just love that I haven't included yet, let me know, I'll find a way to stick them in. And yes, my Cid is a bit less gruff and more respectful than the one in FF7, but he's younger, so lets give him time.


	3. And Comes to a Boil

A/N: Just keep on truckin'…

…And Comes to a Steady Boil.

…

The rest of the party was considerably less dull than the first half had been, Squall mused as he walked Rinoa home that night. Most of the guests took carriages home, but Squall wanted to do the dashing thing and accompany his lady to her doorstep.

And maybe do some other stuff along the way. Come on, when you're 16…

Shera had been acting oddly the rest of the night. Squall wanted to contribute it to whatever had pulled Lord Ansem away from the festivities, but he knew that wasn't the case. It's not like he was an idiot, after all. Squall could see that his innocent sister was not as chaste in mind as she was in deed, let's just say.

Rinoa was still chattering about the way Cid had just stomped in and dragged Lord Ansem away from his guests. Apparently she was appalled at the lack of respect that was shown by the man.

"It's just like daddy has been saying," she said. "Lord Ansem has been too lenient with the peasants. The social balance must be kept firm or chaos will ensue."

Of course _daddy_ had been saying it. Rinoa was quite the "daddy's girl" and, like Lucrecia, had the tendency to be a bit standoffish. It was by no fault of hers; she had just been raised in richness and plenty and couldn't sympathize with anyone who had not. Squall was raised in much the same way; however, he did not have the same blind devotion to his often-distant parents. He had many friends of the middle class, like Cloud and Tifa, for example. Also, you left your prejudices at the door when you joined the Guard.

They had reached the Heartilly's large home close to the palace, and Squall kissed Rinoa goodnight. He was tempted to take it a little bit further, and no doubt would have done so had there not been people still about in the streets. Rinoa smiled and went inside, and Squall turned to head back to the barracks.

And promptly bumped into Reno Chauncer. Squall scowled at the skinny kid, who, for once in his life, didn't try to make some off-color joke to get himself off the hook. In fact, his pale face was even paler than usual, and his green eyes were wide with fear.

"Reno?" Squall asked, "What's the matter?"

Reno was shaking badly, and he looked like he had been staving off tears. "It's me mum, Squall. She- she ain't been back in a week and a day, and- and- I dunno what I'm about to do."

Squall felt a stab of pity for the kid. Sure, he was a pain, and usually deserved whatever life dealt his way, but his mother was the only family he had, and without her, he had no way of surviving.

It was also strange how she hadn't come back. Squall knew of Lacey Chauncer's drinking habits, and how she'd go off for days without a word to her son, but she was never gone for more than two or three days and nights. She'd drag herself home on the fourth morning at the latest, and Reno would let her sleep off the alcohol while he made trouble for the rest of the town. He was most likely running out of food now, and Squall knew he had to do something.

Squall couldn't take Reno home with him; his father would never allow it. But where? He got an idea, and grabbed Reno's arm. The boy squawked. "Oy! Where are we going?"

"Just come on."

…

"I'm telling you, dear, the boy's just an idiot, not to notice my beautiful daughter," Tifa's mother said, cleaning off the kitchen table in their tiny cottage. Tifa sighed. Her mother was just trying to cheer her up, but it wasn't exactly working. And now Mrs. Lockhart was seemingly having a grand old time insulting Cloud.

"Mama, it's not like that at all," Tifa began, when there was a knock on their door. She went over and opened it. "Squall? Reno? What are you all doing here?"

Tifa's mother came over. "Oh, visitors!" she chirped. Squall shook his head. "I have to get back to the barracks, but do you mind if Reno says here until his mother comes back? She's been gone longer than usual."

Reno stuck his chin up. "I don't need no charity," the kid huffed. His statement was somewhat lessened in intensity by the sudden rumbling of his stomach. Mrs. Lockhart smiled.

"Well, maybe you can grace us with your presence then, Reno. We don't get a lot of guests, and it's always nice to have a new face around. Tifa can be a bit of a killjoy sometimes."

Tifa groaned. "Thanks, mama."

Reno shrugged. "That don't sound too bad. I guess I can stay."

"So glad to hear that," Squall scowled. "I have to go. Thanks, Mrs. L. See you around, Teef."

As Squall strode off, Mrs. Lockhart watched him go. "Why don't you date him, dear? He seems like a responsible boy."

Tifa groaned again. "Mamaaaa…"

"Oh, all right. Now, let's see about getting our guest here some food. Cookies sound good?"

…

Cid stood there and observed the Prince Regent examine the body that he had found. Ansem was calm, collected, and even cool around the corpse. Cid was slightly unnerved by his behavior. The first glimpse the mechanic had had of the woman had made him turn around and retch in a corner, but Ansem didn't even seem shocked or disturbed by the sight.

Even in the dim light, Cid recognized the woman. It was that Chauncer woman, the one that goosed him in the market one day because she was smashed out of her mind. Tracy, Macy, oh yes, Lacey, that's it. Her kid was the annoying one. It was a shame, though. Nobody deserved this.

Whatever _this_ was. Cid hoped the woman hadn't did of some sort of disease. The last thing the city needed was another plague. There was no blood, no bruises, the woman just seemed to have keeled over. Any poison available in the Bastion would have left a mark on the victim's forehead (a trait that the mages had introduced to reduce the number of mysterious deaths in the city), but there was nothing. Ansem was mumbling to himself, and acting very oddly.

"Sir?" Cid ventured. "I know this woman, her name's Lacey Chauncer, she lives- lived- in Lower Bastion."

"Hmm…Oh, yes, Mr. Highwind. I think perhaps you should go and get some sleep. Tomorrow you can attempt to locate any family she may have had. I can handle this job on my own."

Cid was puzzled, and just a bit suspicious. "Sir, don't you think I should get the mages down here?"

Ansem spun around. "No!" Then he calmed down. "No, I shouldn't think that would be necessary for one dead woman, Mr. Highwind. Just follow my orders, if you please."

Cid saluted. "As you wish, _sir_," he said, a tiny edge to his voice. He made his way out of the Waterway, Ansem's behavior weighing on his mind. It seemed as if their _esteemed_ leader knew more about Lacey's death than he was letting on. Cid grumbled. He hated royalty.

He headed home, crawled into bed, and tried to get some sleep. _Tried_ being the operative word in this situation.

_Tonight's been a strange one_, he decided. _ First finding that woman, dead, now that was not what I had planned for tonight, dammit. _

_And then, that party…Shera…wow. She didn't look half-bad…who am I kidding, she was…pretty. Yeah, pretty's the word I'm lookin' fer. More than pretty, she was even…_

_Hold on there, pal. Nothin' good's gonna come from thinkin' bout that. Wish I could just get that out of my mind, but I don't at the same time._

_Dammit._

Cid turned over, punching his pillow. This sucked.

He didn't know that, halfway across town, in a stately manor, a girl who had traded her yellow party dress for nightclothes was having similar trouble sleeping, her thoughts plagued with uncertainty. Shera let out an exasperated gasp. Why was she doing this? It was just a party, he just happened to show up, that was it. She saw the man every day, why was tonight special?

_It was the way he looked at me…no, no, he couldn't have meant anything by it; he must have just been surprised. Handsome 25-year-old men just don't care about scrawny teenagers like that._

_But still…it was nice._

Neither of those two confused souls would get a whole lot of sleep that night.

…

Ansem regarded the dead woman in front of him. Strange, his new "pets" hadn't acted the way he had thought they would. His "Heartless" shouldn't have just sucked the woman's heart out. They shouldn't have left a body. Ansem punched the wall in frustration. Now that nosy engineer was going to be intruding where he wasn't welcome. There was no chance a commoner like Cid Highwind, a man who worked with his hands, would understand the measures Ansem was taking to protect his people. He wouldn't accept the fact that sacrifices had to be made in order to save the many.

Sacrifices like this woman.

Ansem had discovered the beings of darkness in an ancient part of the castle several months ago. He researched them, learning that they survived by consuming the "hearts", the essences, of light-dwelling humans. Ansem figured he could appease them, by offering them several lesser people, or those nobody would miss, and prevent them from preying on their favorite victims, the children of the Bastion. He was also experimenting on the creatures, trying to change the way they operated. He wanted the Heartless to cause their victims to disappear, not become lifeless corpses who would attract attention. Eventually Ansem hoped to be able to control the beings.

His experiments were not going very well.

Ansem gave the corpse a last, contemptuous glance, and went back to his study. He was going to need to work harder on the Heartless, and he was also going to have to figure out a way to make the prominent engineer either keep quiet or disappear.

…

The next morning dawned crisp and cool, typical for a late-winter morning. Preparations were already beginning for the Spring Festival, which would be held later that month, and the busy season for merchants was in full swing.

Squall was on duty, guarding the gates to the city. Beyond the walled confines of Bastion Town and its palace lay a wasteland, a jagged landscape that offered no respite for any unlucky travelers. As far as anyone could tell, no one lived outside of the protective shields the mages had set up around the city to ward off the elements. In fact, Squall really couldn't see any reason to post a guard around the city gates. He and Cloud most unwisely volunteered that opinion to their commanding officer, and in result were assigned Gate duty every other day.

"See anything, Strife?" he asked his friend. Cloud rolled his eyes. "No, I don't see anything. What, did you actually expect me to see something?"

Squall smirked. "My, my, we _are_ a bit cranky this fine morning. What, are you missing your girl?"

Cloud reddened. "M- Maybe. What's it to you, Squall?"

"Nothin'. I just hate to see a good soldier brought low like a droopy-eyed puppy by some woman, especially if he's supposed to be watching my back."

Cloud grinned. "I seem to remember a certain Master Leonhart who pined for weeks over Rinoa Heartilly."

Squall laughed. "Yeah, I remember him too. What a sap!"

He became more serious. "You really like her, don't you, man?"

Cloud nodded. "Yeah, I really do."

"But what about Tifa? You know she's liked you for years."

"I know, and I don't want to hurt her or anything, but I just don't have those sorts of feelings for her. I _do_ have those sorts of feelings for Aerith."

"Who you know absolutely nothing about. I mean, you've only known her for what, two months? And nobody knows where she came from."

"So? Your parents only knew each other for two weeks. And they got _married_, Squall."

Squall chuckled humorlessly. "Please, don't use my parents as your model for a stable relationship. They're both cheating on each other and think that nobody can tell, and they're so busy with their own lives that they can't even see that my sister's been spending more time with Cid Highwind than she does with her family."

"I thought everyone knew that. I mean, everyone sees her bring him lunch every day, how could they miss it?"

"They're nobles, Cloud, they live on a different level of life than normal people do."

"Ah, yes, the level of life you are accustomed to, Squall."

"The level of life I've been desperate to escape, you mean. Shera too."

Cloud grinned. "Shera's got the easy end. All she has to do is marry old Cid and your parents'll disown her in a second."

"Don't even joke about that, man, it could happen so easily."

"Think she'd do it?"

"Maybe…nah. Shera may like him, but at the end of the day, she still does whatever she's told. S'just the way she is."

"You never know, Squall, things change. Things change all the time."

…

Something was "up" with Ansem, mused Prince Rufus as he sat at his breakfast. He was moody, irritable, not exactly his normal, cloyingly charming, self. Not that Rufus particularly cared, but he was suspicious of any change in his _dearest_ uncle's behavior.

Rufus didn't particularly like Ansem very much. From the time Rufus was a small child, all he ever knew was that smugly smiling man, ruling _his_ country, telling _him _what to do. Rufus wouldn't be surprised if the man was planning to usurp the throne. The only people the teen prince could trust were himself and his Turks.

And even they weren't invincible. Ansem had already come up with ways to break up Rufus's group of friends. Their oldest, Tseng, had been "promoted" to being a bodyguard to that foreign brat, Yuffie. She was some cousin of his or something. That left Rufus with Rude, his best friend, Reeve, the smart one (Ansem was eyeing him for a transfer to the Engineering Department), and Elena, one of the only girls in the Guard. Rufus scowled. He didn't like Ansem trying to control him. After all, he was Crown prince Rufus, son of King Shinra, First General of the Guard. Who was Ansem, his father's younger, _lesser_ brother, to tell him what to do?

And now the usurper was acting oddly. Great. Rufus glared into his oatmeal. If anything was worse than Ansem, it was crazy Ansem. Just what was his problem?

…

Cid set out, bright and early, to go find the Chauncer kid. He checked Lower Bastion, where the kid lived, but nobody had seen Reno since yesterday. _Great,_ Cid thought, _Mother's dead and the kid's nowhere to be found. Just __fing__ peachy._

He came up to Upper Bastion, asking around to see if anyone knew where the kid was. He stopped in Lockhart's Café to ask if Mrs. L had seen him. She had.

"Well, where is he? I got some- I got some bad news for him."

"Oh dear," she said. "Is this about his mother? He's in the back room with Tifa."

She showed him back and Cid saw Tifa washing dishes in the back room sink. Reno was sitting at a table, playing chess with…Shera.

_Great._

Shera looked up, and he'd be damned if she didn't turn as pink as her dress. _Nice color on her, _he noticed.

_Stop it, stop it._

"Captain!" she said, looking at him with wide eyes. "Can we help you?"

Cid steeled himself. _This ain't gonna be pleasant._ "I need ta talk to the kid."

Reno stood up. "Yah?" Cid could see the kid squaring his shoulders. _He knows somethin's up._

"Its yer mom, kid, she's, well, she's…" he trailed off.

"Dead?"

"Yeah. Kid, I'm sorry."

Reno's knees gave out, and he sat down hard. "How?"

Cid sighed, flicking imaginary dirt off his nose. "Damned, uh, darned if I know. Nobody can tell. When we find out, you'll be the first to know."

Reno didn't hear him. He had started to shake, face buried in his hands. Then the three observers heard muffled sobs. Shera looked up into Cid's face, begging him to tell them that it wasn't true. He couldn't. He turned to go, and as he walked out, he saw Reno fling himself into Shera's arms, sobbing harder.

_Poor kid. He's too young for this_.

Cid walked out into the sunshine, but the day didn't seem so beautiful anymore.

…

A/N: Wow, longest chapter ever. Three chapters in and I've already made Reno an orphan. Go me. But hey! Keep reading. How are you guys liking it then? C'mon, review.


	4. Consolation and Conspiracy

A/N: A long chapter here. Don't own anything but the plot. Yeah, some fun FF7 characters involved.

…

Consolation and Conspiracy

…

"Oy! Oy there! Master Hojo!" Fat Palmer wheezed as he tried to catch up to the skeletal man who was striding down the hallways of the palace. Master Hojo was the head of the Bastion's mages, responsible for overseeing the training of the new mages, and also one of Prince Regent Ansem's closest friends. He turned around to face the fat man, who was one of his assistants. Palmer was a good deal older, pudgier, and more masculine than Hojo preferred his assistants to be, but the man would spy, backstab, and betray anyone, so long as Hojo kept his large rear end on a heavy paycheck. Palmer also served as the messenger boy regarding any and all issues regarding Hojo, and it was a frequent and amusing sight in the castle, the rotund man huffing and puffing as he hauled himself down a hallway, hollering after his Master.

Hojo raised an eyebrow. "Yes, Palmer, what _is_ it?"

The fat man tried to catch his breath. "Ma- master, C- Count Valentine wishes to speak wi- with you."

Hojo sighed. _So that insolent young fop wants to put my work under his moral microscope again, does he? _the mage mused._ I should ignore his summons, just to spite him. Unenlightened socialite._

Palmer tried to cough delicately in order to get Hojo's attention. However, in his current exhausted state, he ended up sounding much like a drowned frog.

"Don't be so crude, Palmer, you stupid man." Curse it all. He would have to see the Count. Hojo's friendship with Ansem would not be enough to protect him from the public backlash should he choose to offend so popular a noble. Hojo wasn't one of the commoners' favorite people, but Vincent, with his charming words and generous actions, certainly was. _That's right. Vincent Valentine, the golden boy. Everyone's hero._

"Tell His Lordship I will attend presently."

Palmer's face fell, and he reluctantly heaved himself back down the hall, hoping he wouldn't fall dead from the exertion.

Hojo watched the man go, allowing himself a small, cold smile. There were some positive aspects of visiting the Count. One in particular caught his fancy.

…

"Vincent, darling, you really need to pay more attention to Society, I mean, I can't believe you've been a Count this long without knowing some of these people."

Said Count leaned back in his chair, an oblivious grin on his face. "Well, darling, that's what I have you for, now isn't it?"

Lucrecia Valentine smiled. "I knew there had to be some reason," she teased. Walking past his chair, she squeaked as he pulled her down into his lap.

"That's not the only reason, _Countess_," Vincent mumbled against her neck. Lucrecia giggled. "I love you, _Count_."

"And I love you…"

A sharp knocking on their chamber doors interrupted them. Vincent groaned, and tried to ignore the noise by burying his face in Lu's hair. She jumped up. "I really should see who it is, dear."

Her husband snorted. "It's Hojo; I can feel his unpleasantness seeping in under the door."

Lucrecia sniffed. "Really, Vincent, that's another thing you could work on. I mean, Master Hojo has never been anything but kind and wise. I should know; I mean, I was the one he trained. In fact, I'd be a mage now if I weren't a Countess."

"And big bully that I am, I made you choose." Vincent was teasing now, his dark red eyes sparkling. Lucrecia smiled and opened the door.

"Why, Master Hojo! So good to see you again."

Hojo smiled thinly at her. "And it is always a pleasure to see you, Lucrecia. How is the baby?"

Lu rubbed a hand over her belly. "Energetic. This little person wants out, and he's making no secret about it."

Hojo raised an eyebrow. "He? Then I take it you believe the child will be male."

Lucrecia smiled. "Call it mother's intuition."

"Now, now, Lucrecia," Hojo chided. "Surely you can't be serious…"

The Count came over to his wife and put his hands on her shoulders. Smiling his most charming smile through gritted teeth, he said, "No use arguing with her, Hojo. She's convinced it'll be a boy, and my wife is never mistaken." He put emphasis on the words "my wife", plainly telling Hojo to mind his own business. Lu shot her husband a somewhat annoyed look. Sighing, she brushed past Hojo on her way out the door. "I'll leave you two to whatever you need to discuss. I'm sure Shera would _love_ to help me go over these plans for the Festival."

"Don't be late, darling," Vincent reminded her. "We have dinner with his Highness this evening."

"I won't," Lu called over her shoulder, striding surprisingly gracefully down the corridor towards the palace exit. Hojo stepped into the Count and Countess's spacious chambers, bowing curtly to Vincent. The taller man only raised an eyebrow. "So, what can you tell me about the state of the new Guard Recruits? You have tested them for magicks, haven't you?"

Hojo nodded, while inside he was seething at Valentine's condescending tone. He began to relate his findings.

"Well, Recruits Patil and O'Rourke have shown some potential. Hardly enough to bother with, but if properly trained…"

….

Shera sighed, leaning against the sink in the café's kitchen. Tifa's mother had taken Reno home so he could get some sleep. The boy was unresponsive, following Mrs. Lockhart meekly as she took him by the hand, not quite the rebellious, annoying kid he had been a few days ago. Numb with grief, Shera figured. Tifa had taken over running the café for the day, with Quistis pulling a double shift and big Barret behind the bar. Thus ensuring they'd have no problem with any customer at all that day. At all.

Shera packed her picnic basket, putting in some extra cookies that Mrs. Lockhart had put aside especially for Cid as a bit of a thankyou for telling them about Reno's mother. As bad as the news was, they were all grateful, except for Reno, who was still out of it, that someone had remembered the boy and had cared enough to track him down.

_That's my Captain,_ Shera thought fondly. _He's only rough around the **edges.**_

Of course, she'd never have the nerve to call him her Captain to his face, but it was her own little bit of selfishness, to think of him as belonging to her. At least in her own mind. It was a nice fantasy.

The clock on the wall chimed, and she realized that _her_ Captain would be wanting his lunch, and was not particularly patient about food. She covered the food with the same checkered tablecloth she always used, and left the back room. She found Tifa taking payments from customers at the front of the café. Shera tapped her friend's shoulder. "I'm going. I'm supposed to meet Lucrecia afterwards, so maybe I'll stop in to check on Reno this evening."

Tifa nodded. "Tell Cid thanks. It couldn't have been easy for him to come here."

"I will."

Shera left the café and winced as the wind cut into her. Hopefully the town was experiencing its last burst of winter, or the Festival might be in some serious trouble. She made her way through the streets, where she bumped into a family friend. "Why, Tseng! How are you?"

The tall guard smiled warmly. "Good, good. I'm just on my way back to see if Lady Yuffie is ready for her riding lesson yet." He was leading a large yellow bird by a harness around the neck. Shera grinned sheepishly, remembering when Tseng had tried to teach her how to ride a chocobo about a year ago. She had given up three weeks after begging the older boy to instruct her on chocobomanship, and he hadn't stopped teasing her about it yet. "Is she better at it than I was?"

Tseng's grin took all the sting out of his reply. "One would hope so."

The chocobo was beginning to snort and claw at the ground, so Tseng decided he'd better be going. "Will I see you tonight, at dinner?"

Shera nodded. "Yes. I'll be there with the Valentines."

Tseng raised an eyebrow. "Surely you don't want to be a third wheel. Why not just come with me? We haven't really talked in a while, and Yuffie enjoys your company."

Shera smiled. "I would love to."

Tseng nodded. "Then I'll pick you up at seven?"

"Sounds good."

Tseng offered a small bow. "Then I will see you then."

"All right."

Tseng strode down the street, chocobo reins in hand. Shera entered the workshop, expecting to find Cid with his upper body stuck under some kind of machine or involved in some gadget he was fixing. However, the first thing she noticed was how empty the front room was. Something wasn't right. He had to be here, because Cid always locked the door when he went out.

"Captain? Captain, are you here?"

Shera walked through the front room and through the door to the tiny compartment that served as a storage closet and bedchamber for those days the Captain was too exhausted to climb the stairs to his rooms on the second floor.

She found him there, sitting on the small cot, holding his head in his hands. Shera approached him cautiously. "Captain?"

He didn't respond. Shera gingerly sat down next to him and lightly placed a hand on his shoulder. Cid turned his face to look at her. He looked tired, and if Shera didn't know better, she'd have said he had been crying sometime in the last several hours, judging by his puffy eyes.

"Are you all right?" she whispered, almost afraid to hear the answer. Cid grunted, "Fine. Just damned dandy."

"Do you want to talk about it? I mean, it might make you feel better or something. But if you don't, it's ok, I mean, I understand, and if you ever need somebody or think that you might want to get this off your chest, I think I can help, I mean, if you want me to," Shera babbled. It was slightly scary to see him this vulnerable. She had no idea that seeing Reno's mother's corpse would have that effect on him. The Captain had seemed fine that morning. A little depressed, but otherwise fine. She opened her mouth to try to comfort him, but he put his hand over it.

"Shut up, Shera. Just shut up," he muttered, and Shera felt surprised and a little annoyed at the same time. Surprised that he had used her first name, and annoyed at him telling her to 'shut up'. How was she supposed to make him feel better if she couldn't say anything?

Timidly she removed his palm from her face, trying to ignore how warm it was, and turned to look him in the eyes. He just looked crushed, and it broke her heart. Nervously, Shera put her arms around his neck and drew him closer. She expected him to draw away, naturally, and to tell her to get out or to just leave him alone, but she needed to make sure he knew that somebody cared.

To her shock, he wound his arms around her waist and buried his face in her shoulder, holding her tight. He wasn't crying, but refused to let her go. Shera's heart was pounding like a drum as she tried to memorize the way he smelled (machine oil, nicotine, and…cinnamon?) and how his hair felt under her fingers (surprisingly smooth and soft). She instantly chided herself. _He's in pain and you're acting like some opportunistic stalker!_

They sat there for a while, tangled in each other's arms, head on each other's shoulder. Shera knew these moments would probably change their relationship forever. They had crossed a line.

She just hoped it had changed for the better.

Far too soon for her tastes, he lifted his head and loosened his arms, but didn't completely let her go. He didn't thank her. He didn't need to. Reluctantly, she took her arms from around his neck, and looked at the picnic basket at her feet. "I brought you lunch," she said unsteadily. He nodded, and released her from his now awkward embrace. Cid got up and walked back into the front room. Picking up the basket, she followed him.

They ate in silence, more so than usual even, until Shera took out the cookies. "Mrs. Lockhart made these for you," she said. "She wanted to thank you."

"Fer what?" Cid grumbled. "Ruining the kid's life?"

Shera stared blankly at him. "What? You gave him a sure answer, instead of letting him worry. The only person who ruined his life is the one who killed his mother. If you hadn't come, he'd be left to worry until someone decided he was worth the time to find. At least this way he knows. You did something good today, you know that?"

He chuckled mirthlessly. "Yer a funny one, kid," he said. "Ever think maybe it'd be better for him to be able to at least hope she was gonna stumble in one morning? S'what I'd've wanted."

Shera kept looking at him, curious. "What do you mean? Was your mother…I mean…is that why it bothers you so much?"

"Hmph. Funny _and_ sharp. Yeh, ma died when I was _his_ age. Stabbed by some drunk in a fcking alleyway."

He didn't elaborate. Shera reached over and put a hand on his shoulder. "Captain…"

He looked at her hand, small and pale against his broad shoulder. "We can't do this," he said sternly, moving her hand off him. Shera looked at him, big brown eyes confused. "Can't do what?"

He wished she wouldn't look at him like that. It made doing this harder. "This," he said. "You and me. Bad enough people see you comin' in here every day, but if anybody catches us like we were when you came over, yer daddy'll hear of it, and it'll be hell for us. So I figure, best thing is, we keep our distance for a while, less chance people'll suspect."

Shera couldn't believe her ears. He didn't want her around? That wasn't the question she asked, though. "Suspect what?"

Cid looked uncomfortable. "Ya know, that…well, ya know."

Shera did know, but she didn't want to make this any easier for him. "No, I don't. Suspect what?"

"That…maybe there's somethin' between us what's not just friendship. See there, I said it. Happy now?"

Shera didn't blink. "And is there?"

He wouldn't meet her eyes. "There can't be, Shera. And now I think you better go home."

Still not looking at her, he got up and walked into the back room, slamming the door shut. Shera sat there, trying to figure out what had just happened. Eventually, she stood up, packed up her basket, and turned to go. She stopped before opening the front door and took the bottle of tea out of the basket. She placed it on the shelf by the door and walked out.

He loved tea.

…

Shera walked the streets for a little while, not wanting to go back to her home, empty save for the servants, until she had composed herself a bit more. She couldn't understand why the Captain did what he did. Did he hate her?

Of course, realistically speaking, she knew why he told her to keep her distance. Shera knew as well as Cid did that people gossiped, and they had been talking about the fact that the daughter of a Baron always visited him at the same time every day. Rumors of a relationship between the two would no doubt start to fly, as Shera was coming of age. Cid's logic was without fault.

Didn't mean it felt any better.

Shera sighed. She needed to get her mind off him. She was late to meet Lu at the town square. Shera hadn't been planning on going at all, but since she'd most likely be doing work, she figured it would be a welcome distraction.

…

Lu sighed. She would wait for five more minutes, but if Shera didn't show up…wait, there she was.

"Where were you?" The pregnant woman demanded. Shera waved the question off. "Don't ask."

Lu found that curious, but didn't pursue the matter. "Well, now you're here, I need some advice on the color scheme for the Festival center."

"What have you got in mind?"

…

By the end of the afternoon, they had a tentative plan for the Festival center worked out, with a red, orange, and yellow color scheme. Lucrecia gave the plan to one of the Festival workers and smiled cheerfully at Shera. "Now all you have to do is design your dress!"

Shera supposed she should be excited. This was her coming out year, or the Festival closest to her 18th birthday. That would be the week she'd begin to get marriage proposals and serious suitors. Every girl who was coming out wore a red dress she designed and created herself, and all the young men in town attempted to hold their interest during the Festival dances, to better their chances when the girls began to consider wedding one of them. Lu was a firm believer in the 'magic' of the Festival for falling in love. After all, she and Vincent married only nine months after spending practically the entire Festival week together. Vincent had been competing with many young nobles and, rumor had it, Hojo as well.

Shera had drawn up some ideas for her dress, but after the day's events, the idea of prancing about, drawing the attention of a crowd of men-no, boys that she didn't care about in the slightest did not seem like something she should be anticipating. But hen, she figured she'd better get to work. The Festival was in a scant three weeks' time, and Shera knew her duty was to be there and to be pleasant while doing so. And Shera Leonhart always fulfilled her duties.

The feel of strong arms and the scent of cinnamon crossed her mind, and she realized that sometimes she wished she had the courage not to.

…

He was a fuckhead. Plain and simple, no way around it. He screwed up. Cid was in a terribly bad mood for the rest of the day with those thoughts running circles in his head.

_First I have an emergency cuddle session with the kid, 'cuz apparently I can't handle my own problems, and then I reject her? Way to send mixed signals, assface, _he thought. _Of course, it coulda been worse._

_I coulda kissed'er or somethin'._

Thinking that was a bad idea. Thinking that made him wonder what kissing Shera would be like. Wondering what kissing Shera would be like made him think about running his fingers through her hair. About looking in her eyes, with those abnormally long eyelashes. About that smile, those lips (What would they taste like?), and soon he was driving himself crazy.

This was bad. She hadn't been gone for a full day and he couldn't stop thinking about her. And there was no chance she'd be back, after all he said to her. Being Shera, she naturally would follow his suggestions to the word. She probably thought he hated her. God, what had he done?

Panicked. He had panicked like a fucking coward. He didn't tell her to keep her distance because he was afraid of her father. Cid had told her to stay away because he was afraid. Afraid of his feelings. Holding her…it had felt good. Cid was immediately suspicious of anything that made him feel too good. You lose control when you get too attached to those feelings. And you get hurt when you lose control.

Besides, Shera was having her coming out this year, wasn't she? She'd be married by this time next year, so attempting any type of relationship was futile. He'd be setting himself up to be hurt. And Cid wasn't willing to take that chance.

But sometimes he wished he had the courage to.

…

That night, a selective group of young nobles were to be the dinner guests of one Prince Rufus, son of the late King Shinra. Shera waited at the door to her family's spacious town home for Tseng. Squall was on his way out the door to fetch Rinoa. He grinned at his sister as he passed her. "Don't let Tseng pull anything on your way up," he smirked.

Shera laughed at that. "Could you imagine Tseng pulling anything on anyone? He's always the gentleman."

Squall laughed. "It would be a funny sight."

Shera watched her brother stroll down one of High Bastion's elegant streets towards Rinoa's home. She was happy for him. The two of them seem to suit each other well.

She saw Tseng, dressed in his fine-fitting ceremonial guard uniform, hop up the steps to her home. She stepped out the door and curtseyed to him slightly. He smiled and took her arm. "You look lovely tonight," he said, as one friend to another. Shera supposed they made quite the quaint couple, the tall officer with a lady in gray on his arm.

The dinner was held in a small, ornately decorated room off of the Grand Hall. Besides the Leonharts and their respective dates, the Valentines and the Turks were in attendance. Elena and Rude, the Turks in question, were seated on either side of the Prince. Tseng took a seat next to Elena, who smiled warmly at him. It was common knowledge among the guard that the girl had a large crush on him, but they remained 'just friends'.

The conversation at dinner was polite and witty. The Brat Prince, in particular, was a skilled conversationalist. According to Squall, this was because, "Everyone needs to have _one_ talent."

Said prince used his skills to bring up an issue that had been bothering him. "Vincent, in your opinion, has my _dearest_ uncle been somewhat out of sorts lately?"

Vincent swallowed the food he had been chewing. "Now that you mention it, Ansem has been edgier as of late."

Rufus leaned in. "Perhaps affairs of the crown?"

Vincent kept his tone neutral. "I really couldn't say, Rufus."

The prince nodded. "Oh, to be sure. But don't you think that perhaps I could relieve him of some of those burdens I'm sure he's under? Perhaps even all of them, dare I say?"

"What you are saying somewhat reeks of treason, Your Highness," Tseng gently admonished. Rufus looked at his friend and mentor. "Yes, I know. Elena, is this room safe?"

Elena, the magick user of the Turks, nodded. Rufus, knowing he was among loyal friends, became slightly looser of tongue. "He's beginning to worry me," the prince confessed. "In fact, I'm not sure he won't make a bid for the crown himself in the next year."

Shera started. She had no idea Ansem would be so bold. Maybe Rufus was overreacting. Vincent, however, nodded calmly. "Perhaps."

"But he'd need an army. I mean, surely the Guard would never follow a usurper."

Laconic Rude raised a hand. "That is true, but I wouldn't put anything past him."

Rufus sighed. "What I'm asking is: Do I have your allegiance, should the worst come to pass?"

Tseng immediately thunped his hand on the table. "You have mine, Your Highness."

Elena and Rude made the Turk salute, right hand on left shoulder. Vincent clapped his second cousin on the shoulder. "I'm with you, Rufus."

All eyes were on the Leonhart siblings. Squall nodded grimly. "Me too."

Shera smiled nervously. "I'm not sure what use I'd be, but you have my allegiance."

Rufus grinned. "Very good."

…

Ansem strode through the Waterways. He had an appointment to keep, and luckily his nephew was too busy with his little friends to bother him. Ansem's experiments had been largely unsuccessful, and as the creatures were becoming more demanding, he couldn't afford another incident like the Chaucer woman's corpse being found by a commoner. He had to enlist some help from an old friend.

"You're late," said old friend smirked, at the door to one of the old studies.

"Yes, well, we just had some new developments," Ansem answered. "So when can we get started?"

Hojo grinned. "Now."

…

A/N: Ooo…spooky. Review. Please.


	5. Ups and Downs

Disclaimer: Don't own, no no no. Disney and Squaresoft do, yes yes yes.

…

Ups and Downs

…

Cloud Strife was a young man who liked to think he wasn't afraid of anything. Cloud Strife was a young man on his way up in the Guard ranks. Cloud Strife was a young man who had his own figurative fan club, of which Tifa Lockhart and Lady Yuffie Kisaragi were founding members.

Cloud Strife was a young man who was currently terrified by a pair of green eyes and an innocent face. Aerith smiled up at him expectantly. They were on their first 'official' date, and he had taken her for a picnic by the Garden of Fountains. The Gardens were near the palace walls, a labyrinth of beautiful topiaries accented by tinkling crystal fountains that gave off a mystical glow. They were considered to be a more romantic setting, a perfect place where lovers could easily find a private place where they could…talk. Squall had ragged him for picking this particular setting, saying he was taking it a bit fast. Cloud was beginning to suspect his old friend was right. The two of them had been at the gardens for two hours already, and Cloud was quickly running out of conversation topics.

_Then maybe it's time for a little less conversation, _that little voice inside his head, the one he knew he shouldn't listen to, chimed. That little voice usually tended to sound just like Squall, not a comforting thought.

And Aerith was still staring at him. Great.

Cloud had never had any problems with girls before this. He and Squall were known as 'ladykillers' in their portion of Bastion Town. The femmes simply flocked to Cloud's blue-eyed…blondness and bad-boy reputation just like they loved Squall's rugged looks and sharp wit. For the most part, Cloud indulged them. If they wanted to make themselves a fool over him, why should he complain?

And now young Mr. Strife found the tables turned on him by the cosmic hand of Fate. He desperately racked his brain for something, anything to say, but was drawing a blank.

Fate really sucked a big one tonight, didn't it?

…

"Interesting dinner conversation," commented Tseng, sotto voce, as he and Shera strolled home. Shera turned worried eyes towards him.

"You don't think…?" she asked.

"Think what?"

"That…any of those things could really happen, do you?"

Tseng paused. "I do not wish to alarm you, Shera," he finally responded. "But I also do not wish to think that the Prince would put such weight on a trivial matter. He may be young, but he has had the burden of the Crown upon his shoulders ere he was born, and this has made him mature for his age, despite his behavior, which can, I admit, be…questionable at times. And the Count agreed with him on the possible threat; what more justification do you require?"

"None," Shera whispered. "But I could use some good news around here once in a while." It seemed as if the day's events had sucked all the emotional energy out of her like a vacuum. Tseng looked concerned. They were now standing outside her home.

"Are you all right, Shera?" He asked. The girl nodded. "I'm sorry I'm such a bore to be around today," she apologized. Tseng shook his head.

"You are never anything but a pleasure to spend time with, Shera. Now, I suggest you come to see Lady Yuffie tomorrow for lunch. That busted ankle of hers will be healing nicely, but she won't be allowed out for a few days, so she'll probably be so bored she'll resort to tormenting the staff, and, as you know, we can't have that."

Yuffie had fallen during her chocobo lesson that afternoon, and apparently she'd be fine, save a twisted ankle and a bruised ego. Shera smiled.

"I'd love to."

She'd almost declined, before remembering she didn't have lunch plans anymore. The initial surprise at that fact soon turned into misery, and Shera was left as depressed as she was that afternoon. She removed her hand from Tseng's arm. "I'm sorry," she apologized again, "But I feel very tired right now, and I'm afraid I won't be such good company."

Tseng seemed to accept that explanation. "Then I shall see you on the morrow, then, right?"

Shera nodded. "I'll be there."

"The time shall pass ever so slowly," Tseng said, bowing like a courtier. Shera knew he was just trying to cheer her up, but she felt inconsolable.

Shutting the door, Shera watched him go, precise and polished as usual. Good old Tseng. Ever the gentleman. Shera headed upstairs, nodding to their old butler, Pennyworth, and hid herself in her room. No doubt Squall would be back in a few hours, and Shera didn't think she could handle seeing him so happy and in love.

Because she couldn't be.

…

"So then I said that Cloud should just ask her out and be done with it if he was going to be whining all the time!"

Rinoa giggled. "Gee, Squall, way to be subtle!"

Squall grinned at her. "What can I say? I can't stand a man who doesn't have the courage to go after what he wants."

"Don't you mean a _boy_?"

Squall placed a hand over his heart in mock hurt. "Pretty _and_ cruel! Wow, hits a guy where it hurts!"

Rinoa smiled. "Man or boy, I appreciate that you didn't take as long as Cloud to figure out what you want."

"Mmm."

Squall leaned in for a kiss, but Rinoa held him at arm's length. "Squall?"

"Mmm?"

"Do you think our relationship is a committed one?"

"Wha-? Oh, yeah. Completely."

Squall tried to kiss her again, but Rinoa clearly had more to say. "Squall?"

(Sigh) "What?"

"Be my partner for the Festival dances."

Squall jerked back as if he'd been burned. Being Rinoa's partner in all the Festival dances was as good as being engaged to her, even though she hadn't come out yet. People would automatically expect the two of them to be together forever, and residents of the Bastion took these sorts of rituals very seriously, fun as they were. _I'm only 16!_ He thought in alarm. _How the hell does she expect me to make that kind of a decision?_

Rinoa was obviously awaiting an answer, but Squall just stood there, mouth open like some kind of fish. After a few minutes, Rinoa turned away. Squall found his voice.

"Wait, baby, don't be like that…"

Rinoa sighed. "Just forget it, Squall. Just…leave me alone for a little while."

"We'll take it a bit slower!"

"Funny," his girlfriend spat, "That's not quite what you say when you're trying to cop a feel, is it?"

"Rini…"

"Just leave me alone. I think we need to take a break for a little while, so you can sort your priorities out."

With that, Rinoa stalked off. Squall felt a rush of fury, and he shouted at her retreating back, "Fine then! You know, maybe it's you who needs to sort out her priorities, and learn how to not take things so seriously!"

She didn't react. Squall kicked the wall of a building near him, and yelped in pain. He must've fractured a toe or something. _Great._

The brunet stumbled home through the early-spring air. Hobbling into the dark house, he tripped and fell over in the foyer, cursing loudly. His sister heard him and rushed down the stairs in her nightclothes. She reached Squall, who was moaning in pain and clutching his bad ankle. She poked the offending limb, making her brother squawk.

"Are you a closet sadist or something?" he hissed through clenched teeth. She brushed him off.

"Don't be such a baby, Squall," she muttered. "I have to see what's wrong."

"Right now, what's _wrong_ is you trying to break the damned thing!"

"Me? No, dearest Squall, I think you've handled that better than I could already."

"It's broken then? Great."

Shera shook her head. "No, just sprained, so far as I can tell. What did you do to yourself?"

Squall was silent. Shera glared at her brother. "Squall," she said warningly, "I'm not in the mood for your sulking right now."

Squall looked uneasily at his foot, still in his sister's vicelike grip. "I kicked a wall," he muttered. Shera cocked her hard to one side. "Sorry, didn't hear. What did you do?"

Squall sighed. "I kicked a wall," he said, clearly and distinctly, cheeks burning. Shera stared at her brother, then she slapped him across the face with just enough force for it to sting. "You idiot!" she whispered frantically. "What on earth would possess you to do something so stupid?"

Squall didn't answer, but if looks could kill…Shera would be fried to a crisp at this point. "Rinoa," Squall finally said, without any elaboration. Shera nodded in understanding. "Oh."

"Ya know, you're luckier than you know, Sher," Squall said, attempting to get up and failing miserably. "Relationships bring you nothing but trouble. I'm done with it, you hear me, done! No more for me, I plan to be a highly desired bachelor for the rest of my life!"

It was an impressive speech, but Squall did not inspire any sense of admiration in his sole listener from his position sprawled on the floor. Shera sighed, helping him to stand. "Good for you," she murmured. "And should Rinoa come calling for you in a few days, I take it you _won't_ go running to her side like a lovesick puppy?"

"Course not," Squall grunted as they slowly hobbled up the stairs. There was a pause. Then Shera looked at him. "That's…good, Squall. That's very mature of you."

_And highly unlikely._

….

Cloud was in even deeper trouble than before, if that was at all possible. He was currently engaged in walking Aerith home, and neither of them had said anything for at least five minutes. The silence was suffocating. _Squall never has this problem,_ the blond mused rather unfairly. As they stood outside Aerith's home in Middle Bastion, Cloud felt his palms grow sweaty and his breathing more rapid. What was he supposed to do? Kiss her? Shake her hand? Ask for another date?

Thankfully, that decision was taken off of his shoulders when Aerith did all three. She reached over, took his hand, and kissed him soundly on the lips. She pulled away, and whispered, "So, should we do this again sometime?"

Cloud kind of nodded, too dazed at that point to speak. Aerith smiled, and left him on the doorstep.

Cloud looked up at the house for a few minutes, imagining which window could be hers, before turning and stumbling home, head still in the clouds, to make a horrid pun.

…

Cid slammed his glass down. "'Nother round, barkeep," he mumbled. He sat at the dimly lit bar of The Bouncing Moogle, a tavern of some disrepute in Lower Bastion. This was a place where he could get completely smashed without anybody recognizing him or causing him annoyance.

"Oy! Cid!"

Well, he had hoped no one would recognize him.

The young man looked up into the genial face of Barrett Wallace. The large man slumped down next to the blond and slung a hefty arm about his shoulders. "So, whatchoo doin' down 'ere, eh?"

"Whassi- whassit look like?" Cid slurred. He wasn't drunk yet, oh no. Just tired.

"Looks like you got sommin' on yo' mind what you wanna forget. Or," Barrett paused, "Somebody."

"Shuttit."

Barrett grinned down at Cid. He was enjoying this too much to back off at this point.

"So it is, somebody, ain't it, _Captain_?"

Cid gestured at him rudely, vowing to keep silent. However, a combination of wracked nerves and alcohol works to loosen any tongue, and Cid Highwind was, upon occasion, a chatty drunk. A few more mugs, and he was spilling everything.

"She's- she's really prrrretty," he mumbled. "An-an sweet, and smart, and when she smiles it's all like, y'know, whoooah, funny feelings. But I gotta stop, gotta stop."

"Hmm? Stop what?" Barrett was confused. Cid's way with women in no way ever involved stopping, or even slowing down.

"Stop…thinking."

"Why?"

"She's…too sweet, too good. An- her dad…her father…no, couldn't work. Me 'n her…nah."

Cid's demeanor suddenly changed, and he shakily raised his glass. "Don' need her, anywaysss. Goo', gooood…riddance!"

Barrett tried to stop a grin. "Yeah, yeah, that's the spirit, Cid. Don' eva let a woman rule yo' life."

Cid nodded several times, and Barrett feared he'd fall over. "Yeah, who needs stupid ole Shera? Even if she is…pretty, and perfect, an…"

The blond man slumped forward on the table, passed out cold. Barrett looked at him in shock. _Shera? As in…Shera? Naw, musta heard wrong. But…it coulda been her, I mean, he's gotta love 'er, the way she puts up with 'im._

_Ah, well. Can't just leave 'im here. He's gonna be hearin' bout this tomorrow, though. _

_Feelin' it, too._

Barrett hoisted the smaller man over his shoulder, throwing a few coins back at the barkeep, and marched out of the tavern towards Upper Bastion.

…

Vincent snuggled down in the coverlet next to Lucrecia, running a hand over her belly. She stirred, waking up. Vincent sighed. "Sorry to wake you, love."

Lu mumbled a little bit, moving away from Vincent. She turned over to face him. "Vincent?"

"Yes?"

"Do you really think it's possible?"

"What?"

"That…well, you know…what Rufus said."

"Oh, that. Well, it's possible, even likely. I know my relatives, and Ansem's always been a greedy little wretch."

"How can you be so calm? I mean, what kind of a world will this baby grow up in?"

Vincent took Lucrecia's hand. "Lu, darling, it'll be all right."

"But how do you know?" Lucrecia was shaking. "I mean, we should at least let Master Hojo know…"

"No." Vincent's voice, though calm, was firm. "Hojo isn't going to know anything."

"You don't like him." It wasn't a question.

"I don't trust him, no."

"Well, there is one area in which we disagree, _dearest_." Lu turned away from him, ending the discussion.

…

A/N: Another chapter down, no major action so far. I imagine Hojo is laughing maniacally in a corner for this chapter. He'll be back next chapter, though, evil and plotting as always. And do we sense some marital unbliss for V and L? Not to mention, the Festival is still around the corner, and drama will come to a head. And I promise some Yuffieness next chapter.


End file.
